


everything in its place

by JaneScarlett



Series: you've got a friend [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Post-Episode: s08e12 Death in Heaven, River Song taking care of the Doctor's companions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneScarlett/pseuds/JaneScarlett
Summary: It had been a month already since Danny died; and if anyone asked, she was fine.  Absolutely fine.  (Except she wasn’t.)





	1. when you're down and troubled

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my fix-it type fics that's been languishing for ages; and since we're heading into a new era and companion, I finally decided that it deserved to be completed. (Also, so it could get out of my draft folder.) Thanks for Sarah and Natalie for the encouragement.
> 
> Chapter titles from James Taylor: 'You've got a friend'

When faced with disaster as her life crumbled around her, Clara did what she'd always done. She made lists reminding herself what she had to do every moment of every day. She stuck sticky notes to absolutely everything so she wouldn't forget; she organised down to minute details to prevent having to really think at all later on.

Because they helped, the lists. It had been a month already since Danny died, but having a plan to follow made her days bearable. It meant she could survive, even if her heart was in pieces.

Coal Hill, first. It was summer holiday; but Clara took the precaution of saying she might need leave in the autumn. She left her flat and moved into a house; needing more space and less memories. And then she locked down her tears to clean out Danny's possessions. Saving mementos, selling the rest; and then using that money and his own meagre savings to conduct careful research into Adam's background in Afghanistan.

Because Danny had asked her to send the boy home; but as the weeks wore on, she wondered if he'd realised how difficult that would be? Very, as it turned out. She couldn't trace him, couldn't just send him to his own country... and she wasn't sure how to fabricate paperwork to keep him. 

The days ticked by. Sometimes, it surprised her that it had been a month, already. Her Gran called often, asking how she was doing; and Clara always managed to answer with a little laugh that she was fine, absolutely fine. She was keeping busy; her days were alright.

And they were. But alone at night, restlessly tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house; she thought she might break, eventually. Life had become strange and open and frightening; and she simply couldn't figure out what to do next. What would make her feel alive again.

* * *

It was one of those rare, lazy summer afternoons in London, full of warm sunshine and blue skies. But Clara was inside the stark coolness of the supermarket, pushing her trolley and consulting her grocery list, when she spotted something that made her stop: the woman down the aisle. 

Or rather, it was her hair. Springy, riotous, reddish curls that seemed to dance on her shoulders as she walked; and Clara sucked in her breath, waiting for the woman to turn around - because it must just be her mind playing tricks on her. If she would turn around, Clara could find the strength to laugh at herself for her loneliness, her depression making her think she saw someone who couldn’t be there. 

But she didn’t turn. So Clara found herself abandoning her list to surreptitiously follow the woman around the store, stalker-like. In the dairy aisle, she reached for tub after tub of yoghurt, just trying to get a look at the woman’s face. In produce, something green –asparagus, maybe, or broccoli, Clara wasn’t paying attention except for vaguely noting the colour- went into the trolley; but then the woman ducked around the corner, out of sight.

“No,” Clara muttered to herself. She began to walk a little faster; she reached the end of the aisle and swung the trolley around to the right when it hit something, coming to an abrupt stop. Clara looked up, a half-mumbled apology already on her lips when she froze.

She'd run into the very woman she'd been looking for. And it was her, after all. River Song, with that knowing smirk on her lips, and a teasing glint in her eyes; looking almost exactly the same as she’d looked years ago, during a conference call that spanned across time.

“Hello,” River said mildly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I think I should be the one saying that,” said Clara. “Oh, and sorry for hitting you.”

River shrugged, brushing off the apology with a smile. “I understand. You did seem a bit distracted.”

“I was. I saw your hair, and I thought it was you… except-” Clara stopped talking, suddenly uncomfortable. After his years at Christmas, it was as though regeneration had loosened the Doctor's tongue. In fact, he couldn't stop talking about his wife: the stories had poured out of him about the things they’d done, the places they'd been. The way he marvelled at her intelligence to match his, her grace with a gun; and even while deploring her methods, he'd still sounded so admiring... 

He'd even -only once, and she'd never dared ask again- told her about that final expedition to the Library that had claimed her life; and so, unlike at their first meeting, Clara knew exactly who River was. And she knew that the woman in front of her should have been dead. 

Except that she wasn’t. River was clearly very much alive, and seemed to recognise her; which should have been impossible.

River grinned wickedly at Clara, no doubt having some idea of her thoughts because she finally said: “Don’t worry. I know.”

“You know--”

“Everything.”

“Everything, meaning…?”

River’s smile grew a little wider. “Everything, as in everything. The Library. Trenzalore."

Meaning, Clara realised, that River wasn't dead. Or at least, not anymore.

Swallowing down a traitorous thought - _how did she do that? when Danny didn't?_ \- Clara finally managed to stammer out: “the Doctor-“

“Oh, he knows,” River said. “At least, the one I've come from does.” Her brows raised, the warning clear in her eyes. Clara nodded, understanding.

“I won't say anything,” she offered awkwardly. “Not that I'll see him anymore. But I won't say anything, even if I do. Which I won't; see him, that is.”

River nodded. “Thank you.”

“Why are you here?” A sudden thought occurred to Clara, painful and worrying. 

“The Doctor. Is he-“

“He’s fine,” said River. She was still smiling, staring straight into Clara’s eyes; but somehow, Clara had the sense she was lying. Calmness was what mattered in a lie. Eye contact and acting as though you believed the things coming out your own mouth; but she didn’t work with children for nothing, and Clara prided herself that she was good at deciphering the meaning behind words.

“Then why are you here? I would have thought... if something was wrong with him, would you come get me?”

“Oh, I would.” River nodded. “But it’s not him. He – oh, you don’t believe me, do you?”

“Not even a little bit,” said Clara.

“He misses having you in his life,” River admitted. "But in a sense, that’s why I’m here. To see how you are.”

“Oh.” Clara plastered a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Good. Great, even. Just getting out of the house to do my daily shop, then going home, nothing interesting going on for me.” Her face was starting to hurt. Her voice was too high pitched, it did that when she was trying to seem normal and felt anything but.

“That’s a relief,” River said, “that you’re doing so well now that you’re not travelling in the TARDIS anymore." She watched Clara thoughtfully for a moment, before pushing her curls back and saying in a low voice: “You see, I know when this is for you.

“I know,” she went on, “about Missy. And Danny.”

It had been a month, but hearing Danny's name hurt. Clara blinked, swallowing hard.

“The Doctor talks a lot,” she finally managed to say.

“Never shuts up,” said River, tapping her fingers idly against the trolley handle. “Wouldn’t be the Doctor if he could keep his mouth shut.”

“Well, I'm fine,” Clara said firmly. “In fact, I'm great! And he's...” Her smile faltered; she pasted it back on. “He's fine, too?”

“Yes.” River looked amused. “He is. Clara, I know you must worry about the Doctor, but he'll be fine, even if you're not traveling with him. He just doesn’t like goodbyes; so he’ll grieve a bit longer for your memory and then he’ll be back out in the world. But it’ll help when I tell him how great you’re doing.

“That is the word you’d like me to use, isn’t it? Great?”

“Yes,” said Clara. “Great. I’m… great.”

“Well, then.” Her lips kept smiling, but there was something in River’s eyes that was like the Doctor. As though she could strip down your outsides and see right into what you were hiding in your soul. But after a moment she relaxed, looking far more cheerful. “That’s all I was wondering about. Nice to see you, and I’ll let you get back to your shopping.”

“Right, then. Good to see you too.”

She didn’t know why she stood there, staring at River’s back as she walked away. And she really didn’t know what made her call out to her.

“River?”

River stopped, turning slowly around.

“I’m not alright.” She was ashamed of the quaver in her voice and the tears that suddenly sprang into her eyes.

“No,” said River. "I didn’t think you were."

“I need... I just need...” Words were failing her. Clara squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself not to cry; but then there were arms around her and River's shoulder beneath her cheek as she pulled her into an embrace. It felt like it had been a long time since someone hugged her, letting her weep as they rubbed soothing circles on Clara's back. Clara cried until her sobs faded to sniffles, and River had produced one of the Doctor's own handkerchiefs for her to wipe her cheeks and blow her nose.

“Better?” River's eyes narrowed as she scrutinised Clara's face, clearly looking for something unsaid. Clara nodded, avoided looking straight at her, focussing her gaze on River's cheek.

“Yes. I'm sorry for all that. I'm fine, now.” She was trying to rally with a smile, painfully aware that the expression must be closer to a grimace than anything else. River sighed, her arm still around Clara's shoulder as she abandoned the cart and steered them out the supermarket, walking them back toward her flat.

“You're lying,” River said gently, as they walked together through the hot London sunshine. “I'm something of an expert at hiding the damage myself, Clara. But sometimes it helps to have a fresh perspective on a situation; and we've got a few minutes before we're back at your house. Why don't you tell me the rest of it? You're not just upset about losing Danny.”

Her voice was soothing, her manner so gentle that Clara didn't stop to think. For the first time in the last month she just spoke, the words spilling out of her heedlessly.

“What's really wrong is that it feels like I lost Danny twice. The first time, when the Doctor tried to help. But then after... he could have come back! The bracelet -Missy's bracelet - it could have brought him back to me. We could have tried again. But he decided not to. He said that he'd made a promise; and he sent me some child instead. I don't know his real name. I just call him Adam.”

“I see,” said River thoughtfully.

“I've thought about it,” Clara went on. “I don't know the full story, but I can guess. It's someone he must have known in Afghanistan. Someone who died, maybe because of him. And I want to help. I even want to like him - I usually like kids, and I'm good with them.

“But I can't...” She sighed. “I can't like him. He won't even talk to me; we just make signs at each other if we need to communicate. Most of the time he looks at me, looking so scared and lost and miserable that I can't take it.

“He doesn't want to be here. And to me, he feels like,” Clara took a deep breath, “he feels like Danny's revenge; that I didn't love him enough and that's why he didn't come back to me.”

“Revenge and love don't work quite like that,” said River calmly. Clara bit the inside of her cheek, realising that of everyone in the universe, River may have been one of the only person who could make a statement like that, making it sound completely normal.

Clara choked back something between a laugh and a sob. “Maybe not revenge, then? It's more like a test. He sent him back to test what I'd do; if I cared about his memory enough to try. Even though he had to know what he was asking for was impossible. I can't trace his family; and how could I send him back, anyway? It's been years and Adam hasn't aged!”

They had reached Clara's front door. River waited in thoughtful silence as Clara struggled with her keys, before finally taking them from her hand to open the door herself.

“If,” she said suddenly, “I knew of a place for him, would you want me to help?”

Clara stumbled in the doorway; River's hand immediately shot out to steady her.

“Do you know of a place?” Clara demanded.

River hesitated. “Yes, I think I might. A family, even if not the one he lost. But would you want that? For me to take him away. Danny trusted him to you.”

He had. But Clara couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done it for another reason. He had to have known she couldn't help... or maybe he had relied on her persuading the Doctor to drop the boy back in time.

But she wasn't traveling with the Doctor anymore. And she didn't know what else to do to help... So she raised her chin, looking River in the eyes.

“He trusted me to do what's right. And what I think is right is that the Doctor trusts you,” said Clara. “And so do I. Find a place for him.”


	2. and you need a helping hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Doctor's friends never give up. Even when they feel tired and beaten, and need help remembering what is worth living for."

If Clara had learned anything about River Song in the Doctor's ramblings about his wife, it was that he trusted her because River always knew the important things and the seemingly insignificant; and she was always calmly prepared for every eventuality.

Well, he certainly hadn't been wrong. Within moments of walking through the door, River had already taken over with a practicality that made Clara's head spin. In a flash of curls and graceful movements she'd made tea and seated Clara and Adam at the table; and as Clara sipped the hot brew, she marvelled at River's easy smile, at her low voice murmuring in a fluid foreign language.

And then Adam beamed shyly at her. Adam _answered_ her; and Clara set her tea down, staring between them in surprise.

"He talks?"

"Of course he talks," said River. 

"And you know the language he speaks?"

River's eyebrow lifted, almost mockingly. "I am an archaeologist. Despite what the Doctor might think of my profession, I did spend years honing my craft... which included a detailed study into language."

Clara rolled her eyes. "And," she added, "you are the Doctor's wife. And since he speaks all sorts of things..."

"He lies about speaking all sorts of things," River said calmly. "He does know quite a few languages, but he also relies on the TARDIS translation matrix as much as he can. He doesn't really speak baby. Or," she grinned wickedly, "horse."

"Otter?" Clara asked, fighting a grin of her own.

River shrugged. "He tried; but they told me that they couldn't understand a word.

"Now," said River. "Back to Adam. I explained the situation and he thinks it's a good idea. He wants to leave."

"Oh?" said Clara faintly. "You told him about leaving. Right."

There was a contrary part of Clara that felt sulky hearing that. As though what she'd done for him so far was nothing; that he was fine leaving her. She even resented that River was the one who had thought to tell him what was happening; though of course, she was right to tell him. 

Because Adam was smiling. Beaming, even. He looked like a totally different child than the one she had seen the last month. He looked like he had hope about the future.

_Well_ , Clara thought resentfully, _at least one of us does._

"So," said River, putting down her tea cup. "Are you ready?"

"Ready for... oh," said Clara. "To go. Now?"

"Why not? This seems like a wonderful time for a little trip."

"Where does this family live?"

"America," said River absently. She was already standing, her arm around Adam's shoulder, as she entered coordinates in her vortex manipulator. "I'll bring you to them."

She murmured something to Adam - he snaked one skinny arm around her waist and beamed trustingly up at her - and then she held out her hand for Clara to take it. 

Clara stood up, but stayed just out of reach. _I don't think I want to go. You can take him, but I should probably stay here._ After saying good bye to the Doctor, she honestly thought she would ever travel again. At least, not by methods other than those common to the 21st century.... 

But here was River Song, calmly offering to hop her to America and back again. And, taking Adam off her hands. Which she'd wanted... And yet suddenly, the trauma of the last month seemed to be settling on her all at once. It was too much to bear; her stomach churned with grief and bitterness and resentment and confusion. All at once, Clara wanted to howl and burst into tears. Refuse to go anywhere, to do anything... 

She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them to see River watching her with those inquisitive eyes that were just like the Doctor's. Seeing you at just the wrong moment, and noticing everything you wanted to hide.

"Come on," River murmured. "I remember you, Clara. You wanted to save the Doctor. You were brave enough to fracture your entire being, just to save the world. In comparison to all that, this is just a little trip. What happened to that adventurous spirit?"

"It got tired," said Clara. "It got beaten."

River laughed. "The Doctor's friends never give up. Even when they feel like that, and need help remembering what is worth living for."

She held her hand out again, one eyebrow raised like a challenge. "Besides, don't you owe it to Danny to see Adam settled? He'd want to know that you did the best you could."

Put like that, there was no way to refuse. Clara bit the inside of her cheek, focussing on the sharp pain instead of the gnawing grief. And then finally, slowly, stretched her hand out, her fingers curling into the warmth of the other woman's palm; as River pressed the final button and the world dissolved around them in a shower of colours and a gut-wrenching lurch.

Staggering, Clara realised they'd arrived. Politely, even; all three of them huddled on a doormat. River smiled, murmuring something to Adam and nodding encouragingly as he leaned forward to ring the bell... And then seconds later the door opened, and a slender man with sandy, slicked-back hair stared blankly at them.

He blinked slowly - his face scrunched up in confusion - before he finally spoke.

"River, what have you done now?" 

His words sounded exasperated. But there was also a gentle fondness in his voice; and as Clara watched him, his lips twitched at the corners, turning into a genuine smile.

"Is that any way to greet me?" asked River. She stepped forward, Adam's arm falling from around her waist, as the man pulled her into a tight embrace.

The Doctor lied. A hug wasn't only to hide your face; because there was so much more in _this_ hug. So much affection; so much love, and trust... River was the one who finally pulled away. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, her lips trembling.

"I've missed you."

"We've missed you," the man answered. "Come on in. Amy will-"

"Amy will, what?" Clara could hear a second voice -female, Scottish- before she saw the person it belonged to. And then there was a crash and a shriek and a flash of red as someone hurled themself at River, pulling her into another embrace before scolding her breathlessly.

"You are terrible, you've been away far too long this time-"

"I know, but-"

"I've told you that you're not too old to give us a call- we _worry_ about you -"

"Things came up-"

"They always do, and that's no excuse-"

"Yes, but-"

"No buts." The woman glared, brows drawn together into a scowl. "You know our rules, and you are not too old to be scolded, young lady. Now come inside and bring your friends." She spun around and marched inside, leaving River and the man to give each other wry, understanding smiles. Clara tried to smile through a veritable haze of confusion, wondering who these people were, how the tall ginger woman could talk to River like that - and she was still just _smiling_. Not waving a gun... Clara would have expected River to already be shooting.

"You know them," Clara murmured, as she followed River into the apartment.

"Of course."

"Good friends?"

"Something like that. At one time, anyway. It's a bit different now."

"Sounds complicated."

At that, River laughed. "It is. Most people, as the Doctor would say, need a flow chart. I take it you haven't met?"

"No..." Clara was looking at River, but she could feel two sets of eyes settle on her from across the room, their gaze curious and appraising. 

"I'm Amy," the woman suddenly announced. "And that's my husband, Rory. Friend of River, are you?"

"Yes." She was, she supposed. "I'm Clara."

"And this," added River, "is Adam."

"I see," said Amy slowly. "It's nice to meet both of you. Even though," and her eyes narrowed, "I think River didn't just bring you by for a visit."

There seemed to be a subtext in her words that Clara didn't understand, although River obviously did. Her hand rested lightly on the boy's shoulder, her smile was calm.

"You're partly right. Clara is visiting; she just needed a little vacation. But Adam..." River sighed, smoothing her curls back behind her ears.

"He's an orphan. And he's found himself somewhat-" she paused, as if searching for the right word, "-displaced."

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room was downright uncomfortable. Tense. Clara opened her mouth, intending to add something into the conversation to explain what had happened to Adam; but then, she closed it again, unsure of what she could possibly say. 

_It's a long story but Adam was dead! Then he came back to life, and my still-dead boyfriend sent him to me..._ No. Clara shook her head. Definitely not a good conversation starter.

Besides: the air between Amy and Rory already felt laden with questioning looks and pleading, worried glances that seemed to be enough conversation on their own. They likely didn't need anything else thrown in there... But River cleared her throat, a calm smile on her face.

"Don't worry. I have everything you'd need to integrate him into your lives."

"You would," Amy muttered.

"And," River went on, ignoring Amy's comment, "this seemed like the best solution for the situation. All of the situations."

Once again, Clara felt as though she was missing something vital in their communication. What situation? Who were these people, and why would they be willing to help knowing nearly nothing about Adam, or why he was there?

Rory sighed, bending over to look into the child's eyes. "Is there anything Adam wants to tell us about where he's from? Doesn't he have friends, or other family he'd rather stay with?"

"There's no one left who could take him, and he'd rather not go back. Oh," added River brightly, as though she'd forgotten until just then, "did I mention he doesn't speak English?

"But you shouldn't worry about that either," she said quickly, seeing the incredulous expression on Rory's face. "I'll help. Clara will go home soon; but then I'll come back and stay for a few weeks."

"You think he could learn English in a few weeks?" Clara blurted out. "He was with me for a month and we never talked."

"Well." The corners of River's mouth twisted into a smirk. "It's a different situation than when he was with you. And I do have a few items that can help with translation while he develops his language skills."

Clara narrowed her eyes. River had to be referring to something TARDIS related. Some sort of translation matrix, perhaps? But there was a careful way she was talking, as though reluctant to give anything away...

Across the room, Amy's fingers were tapping against her side, her brows drawn together into a scowl as she said: "you've already decided for us; haven't you?"

"No," said River. "I haven't. You could still say no. But I brought him here because I'd hoped..."

"That argument would work better if it wasn't that you always know," Rory muttered beneath his breath.

River shrugged, not answering. Amy and Rory exchanged another look before she sighed. Her gaze dropped down to her hands, tightly clasped over her stomach. Rory leaned over, one hand covering hers as he pressed a gentle kiss on her temple.

"It's fine," he murmured. "We'll be fine. I promise."

"I know," Amy answered shortly. "Look, why don't you get Adam settled?"

"Right." Rory nodded, giving her hands one more small squeeze before turning to River.   
"Do you have those translation items with you?" 

River rummaged in her pocket, producing a small silver-coloured ring that Rory jammed into his finger before he turned to Adam, holding his hand out to the boy.

"Come on," he said in a soothing voice. "Amy will keep Clara company. And River is going to help me clear the study and figure out what we need to buy to make you a new bedroom." 

Adam smiled shyly as he took his hand, trotting out the room between Rory and River. Amy watched them leave, her eyes unreadable. And then she turned to Clara, her gaze flickering over her, taking in everything about her appearance before giving a her a friendly smile.

"They'll be a little while. Rory's good with kids. He'll get Adam talking and I bet they won't stop. Fancy some tea while we wait?"

"Yes?" Clara trailed behind the Amy into the kitchen, subtly trying to pick up the hints of when they were. Because something about Amy and Rory felt decidedly modern and Twenty-first century, but their flat didn't. There were copper pots on the hob. An old fashioned stovetop kettle, like the one Gran had. The scrubbed table and countertops, an ice box in the corner... It felt very 1940's. Or maybe the 50's? Clara might not have been completely certain, but whatever era River had brought them to, it wasn't the one she'd left.

Amy pushed a cup over to Clara before sitting down, carefully arranging the skirt of her blue dress over her knees. And then she leaned forward, long red hair trailing over her shoulders to brush against the table top. 

"So," she drawled casually, "how do you know my daughter?"

Clara choked on her tea.

"Your- what?"

"Daughter," said Amy, sitting back and surveying Clara with a hint of satisfaction in her eyes. "Didn't you think River had parents somewhere?"

She hadn't, actually. If anyone seemed a candidate for an Athena-like birth, bursting into the world as an omniscient creature, it was River Song. And the Doctor had certainly never mentioned it.

"Oh..." Clara shrugged. "Well. We haven't known each other that long. Really, it's more that we have a... mutual friend."

Amy nodded, making a vaguely affirmative sound. And then she smiled... no, Clara thought abstractly, it was more of a smirk. Rather like River's, in fact. 

"I think I know what you mean by a mutual friend." She paused, taking a sip of tea. "So then, maybe the question should be how long did you travel in the TARDIS before deciding to leave?"

There was a long pause as Clara stared at Amy, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly before she finally managed to sputter: "how did you know that? That I travelled with the Doctor?"

"Oh..." Amy put her cup down, then leaned back in her chair. "You can always tell, about his friends. River said it's the eyes. Something lurking in our eyes... She teases me and calls it madness, but I think it's wonder. And sometimes, grief." She shrugged.

"Traveling with him means your life will never quite work the way you'd expect. Things get lost that you never expected to miss."

Clara nodded, only after a few moments realising what Amy had actually said. "You travelled with him too."

"Of course."

"But... you don't now."

"It wasn't possible anymore. So I made a choice to stay here, with Rory. It's not bad, New York in the 50s. Instead of visiting history, it's happening all around us."

"That sounds..." Clara hesitated, not knowing quite what to say. Nice? Awful? She'd made the decision not to travel anymore, but until this moment she hadn't really thought of what it would feel like. Every day in sequential order. No surprises but the small mundane ones.

"River's your daughter?" she asked instead, feeling like that was safer ground. "Do you have any other kids?"

She knew she wasn't imagining the bleak, shadowed look in Amy's eyes, even if the other woman had a rather forced smile on her lips.

"No. We couldn't... and our lives before. It wouldn't have worked. But we're here now in our new, post-Doctor life. No more travelling...and I knew Rory wanted kids; he always wanted kids. He was talking about adopting..."

There was something in Amy's manner that made Clara wonder if perhaps she would've been happier without children. But then she sighed, murmuring: "I guess we just have. I'm just surprised it's happening so quickly, but it'll be nice. Strange, being able to be parents this time. But I think he'll be happy with us."

"Because you'll understand." Clara took a deep breath, finally understanding River's meaning about the best solution for the situation.

"We know what it's like to be displaced," Amy said simply. "Unable to go home."

"Why?" The question burst out, without any sense of tact; but Clara had a feeling that Amy would appreciate honesty. "Why can't you go back? The Doctor-"

"Can't do everything," said Amy. "Even if he pretends he can. There are some things he can't fix."

"I know." She hadn't meant to sound so bitter.

"He tries."

"He did," Clara agreed. "It wasn't enough."

"And that's why you decided to leave?" Clara looked up to find Amy's eyes boring into hers. It lacked something -perhaps she was far more used to the inquisitive, stripping bare sensation from both River and her husband- but Amy was no novice at the look. She saw enough to know the things Clara didn't want to admit to herself. 

Because leaving the TARDIS... yes, it had been about her grief. Losing Danny. The Doctor not needing her anymore, if he was returning to Gallifrey.

But it was also her. The fact that she saw him as a fallible being who couldn't do everything, couldn't turn back death. That despite who she was, his Impossible Girl who once had managed exactly that, that she wasn't capable of it either when it had counted.

"Don't you miss it?" she asked, instead of answering. "Don't you miss him? And the traveling?"

"Him: of course. But the Doctor... he's never as gone as you'd think. Always pops up when he's least expected. And the traveling?" Amy was trailing her hand over the table, fingers gracefully circling the cup before her.

"We don't miss it as much as we'd thought we would. Not anymore. If you travel with the Doctor, you learn to take things as they come. And you grow up, eventually. Figure out what's important. For me, that was Rory." Amy smiled, her entire face softening at the mention of her husband. Clara didn't think she'd ever seen that expression on anyone's face, except perhaps the Doctor when he talked about River.

And realising that made her feel... well, it made her feel lonely. What was important to her? What was important enough to stay in one place for? Nothing. No one. Even Danny hadn't been enough... and he was gone now, too.

She hadn't said any of that aloud, but perhaps her thoughts were written all over her face because Amy leaned over to grasp her hand. Clara looked into her eyes: wide hazel eyes full of pity and understanding.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out, what you love."

"And if I don't?"

"You will." Amy sounded very certain; and at something in her words, the assurance in her voice, a little part of the unhappiness in Clara's heart unknotted and she found herself smiling.

* * *

In the end, Clara stayed in New York with the entire Williams' family for a month. She went sightseeing and shopping - she was there as Adam learned English - she was included in their easy warmth and teasing and closeness. 

Clara couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like part of a family. It was lovely, and yet utterly frightening in a way. Too domestic. Her dad had been anything but after her mother died; and then the years with the Doctor had been about adventure and excitement... She grew to love the Williams family, but all the same, she was relieved when River said that she should bring her back home.

"Are you sure?" Rory asked quietly. Clara turned, smiling; but at his question she felt the expression falter.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" he went on. "You do seem better than when you arrived, though. Not so lost, anymore."

Her lips stopped trembling, and she managed to smile again. "Being with all of you has helped. A lot." 

And it had. She felt revitalised, rejuvenated. Ready to face whatever life was going to bring her way... ready to move on from Danny's loss and find whatever would make her happy.

"Then good luck. We'll miss you," Rory said, hugging her. Amy put her arms around them both, and they stood there for a moment.

"Life goes on," she murmured softly, so that only they could hear her. "Figure out what you love and can't stand to lose."

Clara pulled away slightly to find Amy watching her solemnly. 

"For me it was traveling, and then I realised it was really family. Don't worry. You'll figure things out for yourself."

Throat tight, Clara nodded. She wasn't certain what else to say during another round of hugs, concluding with Adam holding her tightly around her waist and mumbling thank you (it turned out that once he was out of her house and with under the Williams' influence, he was a cheerful and endearing child; she would miss him after all).

And then Clara curled her fingers around River's wrist, closing her eyes at the flash of lights and vertigo that characterised manipulator travel to discover that River had brought her back to the same time she'd left. Only minutes could have passed... The cup of tea she'd made was still on the table, barely even cooled.

"You are good at that," Clara said, marvelling. "You should give the Doctor lessons."

River laughed softly. "I've tried. But he prefers to be whimsical with his timing. Loves to keep people guessing.

"Now," she said. "I should go."

"Back to your parents, I suppose. America in the 50s..." Clara put her tea down, looking up at River.

"Thank you. I needed to go there... needed to see people who'd done it, survived after leaving the TARDIS. And they're lovely. But... how do they do it?" she blurted out. "Stay there... after everything they've seen and done? I know Amy said they don't miss traveling, but, really?"

"Really," River confirmed. "Originally they stayed because they didn't have a choice. But now..." She shrugged nonchalantly, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. 

"Sometimes things happen. You travel with the Doctor and you make choices. It worked for them... they were ready to stop.

"Are you?"

Startled, Clara looked at River, hearing the intensity of her voice with those two simple words.   
She'd thought she was. But Clara wondered if it had been the grief, the guilt at losing Danny, wondering if she'd somehow made it happen because she hadn't wanted him enough... 

"I didn't think so," River said softly. 

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to."

"Because you always know," Clara teased.

"Often," River corrected, lips twisting into an unmistakable smirk. "But to say otherwise would ruin my reputation."

Still smirking, she programmed something into her vortex manipulator, blowing Clara a kiss. And then right before she dematerialised, Clara blurted out: "What's going to happen to them?"

River paused, lifting her fingers from the manipulator to look at Clara.

"Amy was right," she said slowly. "I did know they'd adopt Adam... but when I first met him in my timeline, I knew him as my little brother, Anthony. He changed his name, you see. Decided that the way to leave his past behind was to choose a new name... the Ponds have a habit of doing that.

"He grew up to be a wonderful man. Kind, thoughtful... rather like Rory, actually. And he was very devoted to me; took a long time to find out why, that I was the one to bring him to his new family.

"But they're going to be fine. They're all very happy, all the way to the end of their lives."

At that, Clara's lip wobbled. Thinking of the couple she'd just met, the happy family... in 2015, they must already be gone.

"I hate that people die," Clara muttered vehemently.

"Everyone does."

"You didn't."

River looked uncomfortable. "Sometimes you get lucky and get another chance."

"Because of the Doctor."

"Yes," River said. "He's very persuasive. And you'd be surprised, once he's in your life, how your paths will cross again. Even... well." She paused, the tiniest smirk on her lips.

"Even when you don't expect it."

Clara grinned, suddenly. "You've made it sound like I'm going to travel with him again. Isn't that... what's that word the Doctor always said you used? Spoilers?"

"Something like that." River raised one eyebrow, the teasing glint back in her eyes. "I'll see you again, Clara."

She pressed the button on her manipulator, disappearing with a flash and faint whiff of ozone. Clara picked up her tea as she wandered around her house, peeling sticky notes from everything and tossing them in the trash.

Life went on, and it was time to make new plans. She grabbed her pad and wrote one more note, sticking it to the inside of her front door, as a reminder.

"Find what you love and can't bear to lose," she read aloud, one finger tracing over the words, and hoping that one day she'd figure it out what she wanted most of all.


End file.
